Always
by kesque
Summary: To Natasha, singing in the shower meant everything was going to be okay. Completed
1. It Was Always You

It was his job to sing in the shower. Whether it was the three in the morning and they had just been dancing the night away at a gala or it was seven at night after they had been unable to save a group of children from being killed in guerilla warfare; even at noon, when Natasha was about to kill a Slovenian diplomat, Clint was always singing. To Clint, it was a way to relieve or at least acknowledge the stresses of the day, to unearth the tension that seemed to always be present in the crook of his elbows. To Natasha, singing in the shower meant everything was going to be okay. As long as Clint still sang, things were going to be okay. It was as much a promise as anything else in her eyes.

When she is still just the Black Widow, she hears him singing _Polly _in the husky growl of his as she lurks beneath his windowsill. Even at the time as she plotted to kill him, the ridiculous idea of an assassin sent to eliminate her, singing this song before doing so, brought a smile to her red lips. Then, after they have fallen into bed together for the first time, when each of them is stained with battle wounds inflicted by the other, he sings in the morning. Natasha can imagine him washing away the blood from around the gash where she'd stabbed him, as he croons _Who Let You Go? _They fight on their first mission together, harsh words flung at one another, with the intention to kill. They're posing as a married couple and then Natasha takes a few risk, nearly gets her head shot off. But because she's Natasha Romanov, the Black Widow, she lives. She barely survives Agent Barton's dangerous threats before he slams the bathroom door shut retreating to the shower. She slides down to rest her head against the door, listening to the _Violence_ he sings with such raise, slipping away before he exits. When she slips up, and sleeps with a mark, Clint doesn't talk to her for a week. They still share a room and the silence between them is so much more obtrusive than the normal softness they share. This time, he barely sings, rather he's screaming out _You Oughta Know_ with a pain in his voice that she hadn't known him to have. That mission is never mentioned until Barton goes out drinking alone one night when Natasha just wants to sit in their quarters and read. He returns after midnight, disgustingly drunk and through his slurred words, he reminds her hatefully of the incident. He's swaying as he says this and Natasha carefully helps him into bed, stroking back his hair before crawling in next to him. When the sunlight streams through the shades the next morning, she wakes and hears him softly singing _For the Nights I Can't Remember_.

No matter what has occurred, they have made it through, they have survived, everything has been okay. Everything will be okay as long as Clint sings in the shower. And she can always count on him to sing in the shower.

But he doesn't. Not the night of the Manhattan attack but she convinces herself he's just exhausted like she is. Not any of the days after.

He is like a robot in those days, eyes hollow of any emotion. His skin has a red rawness to it, as if he's tried to rub away all the sins committed over the last week. She has plucked every shard of glass out of his back, has given him pain killers, and held him tight to her when nightmares take over. She helps him walk and massages his feet, trying not to recall that the ritual is him massaging her's. Every night she kisses him on the forehead when they go to bed but each morning he is found sitting on the edge.

Clint talks but his responses are preprogrammed into him, and she catches him staring at the mirror sometimes, as if searching for traces of that chilling blue. "He's in there, Nat" he murmurs when she walks in on him. "He's not" she promises, curling up next to him and lacing kisses up his neck. His face is like a stone.

"I'm going to take a shower" Natasha tells him softly, trying not to break him from his reverie. He doesn't seem to acknowledge her.

She steps into the cool porcelain of the tub, embracing the hot gushes of water that fall across her still bruised face. She sighs in delight and thinks of her partner for a moment. She lets fear strike across her heart in that moment, that things are not okay because Clint is not singing in the shower. An aura of desperation captures her, and her throat opens her voice raspy.

The Black Widow sings "When the world gets too heavy, put it on my back. I'll be your levee"

She has never sang in the shower before and despite the upbeat tone to the song, her adaptation of it is the sort of raw and heart wrenching thing that feels far too private to describe further. "I'm a fly that's trapped in a web but I'm thinking that my spider's dead".

As she exits the shower, hands shaking from the steam, she convinces herself, she still sings in that wavering choke. "That I'm skin and bone, just a king and a rusty throne"

Natasha reenters the room and she is paralyzed by what she sees. Clint holds the gun that she keeps in her bedside table to his temple, his eyes meeting those of his reflections. His face is neutral; this is not a heavily emotional moment. Natasha doesn't have the time to feel her heart sink; she doesn't have the time to want to yell out. This is no slow motion movie scene.

This is the clearest thing the Black Widow has ever seen. She's all about webs, all about confusing and tangling the truth up until she's caught her prey. Hawks are different; they swoop in for the kill in one fatal movement, no mystery behind their actions. Almost like a math equation, Natasha sees it. The bullet exits the gun, and enters Clint's flesh. It passes through his skull and exits the other side with blood and brains smearing the walls of their room.

Natasha does not blink. She does not cry. She does not beg any god for mercy or throw herself at the corpse that has now hit the floor. She does not yell at Clint for his stupidity. She does not think about how nothing will ever be okay again because Clint can never sing in the shower again. She does not do any of this because she is dead.

Natasha-Nat-Tasha-Agent Romanov dies the second the bullet grazes her partner's flesh. Natasha dies and the Black Widow is all that is left, the shell that Clint had saved her from becoming years earlier.

The Black Widow lifts a comm. link from off the dresser, and speaks into it. "Barton is down; shot self through the head at 2:02 p.m. today. Clean up is requested and pass along the message that Romanov would like a new sleeping assignment". Before the unlucky agent on the other end can react, she clicks it off.

_It was always you falling for me, _

_Now there's always time, calling for me, _

_I'm the light, blinking at the end of the road, _

_Blink back to let me know. _

_(It was always you) _


	2. Blackbird

**Author's Note: Hi all, thanks for reading so far! I got a lot of feedback on **_**Always **_**and while it was originally intended to be a one shot, I wanted to write a little more and see what you guys thought. I mean if this is complete bull then I'll take this chapter down but if you guys enjoy it, I have plans for this to potentially have four chapters. But remember, the only way I know how you guys feel about this is by reviewing. Thanks! – Kesque**

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
all your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

She pushes herself up from the bed, cheap mattress wheezing under the weight, and brushes back a handful of ember-filled curls. On the other side of the bed is a young boy, barely twenty two who is fighting to catch his breath. He's yelled out her fake name a couple of times that night, so the Black Widow is well aware of his American accent. His jeans are around his ankles, shoes still on, and his stormy grey eyes look at Natasha like she is a goddess. Natasha ignores his doe-eyed gaze so that she won't remember who used to look at her that way.

His funeral was three weeks ago. Not that it was really a funeral. Just his body cremated in the designated quarters of SHIELD's headquarters. Stark had been there, trying in an incredibly unsuccessful manner to lighten the mood with some of his characteristic snark but given the setting, it was completely inappropriate. Steve played his part well, showing appropriate dignity to a fellow American's body. Natasha thought that if he'd never been given that serum or never been frozen, he'd have ended up delivering the bodies of young soldiers back to their desolate parents. She can imagine him offering them a flag, and informing a shocked father how proud he should be of his son while the mother sobs. Thor had arrived from Asgard in order to pay respects. His awkwardness portrayed the guilt he felt. Without his brother's interference…one more heart would've been beating in that room. Bruce has a mourning presence to him to begin with. Natasha thinks it's because he lives in a state of mourning for his humanity. But he is dressed in a black suit with a look of grief stretched across his face, bordering on denial. Natasha is not present at the funeral. She looks on from the air ducts that stretch through SHIELD. She knows that the team must think her a heartless bitch for not attending, but that's who she is. He bursts into flames. She shivers.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to be free_

Natasha has never been the sort for random hook ups. She doesn't get drunk and make poor decisions. She doesn't believe in one night stands. She can't sleep next to anyone she doesn't trust and her trust is not quickly earned. Natasha's slept with marks before, but their death follows immediately after. This time was different.

She'd fled New York two weeks and six days ago, but physically she'd been quite calm. It was only her mind that was desperate for escape. Luckily Fury had already signed papers giving her a period of extended time off for medical reasons. There was no red tape to be cleared up. She was calm when she settled into a small Midwestern town in Iowa. She felt at peace for a few short moments but she refused to acknowledge why. There'd been a local coffee shop that someone she'd met when grocery shopping had encouraged her to go to. She hadn't realized it was one where angsty teenagers were allowed to perform while she drank, and after two soul-ruining sets she was about ready to go. Then this kid takes the stage with his shy demeanor and cloudy eyes and she feels compelled to stay. Once he pulls his guitar out, the shyness is gone. There is a look of confidence on his face, a look of pleasure as his fingers grace the wooden form.

Then he begins to play and part of her wants to flee but the other part can't bring her feet to move from the floor. "_Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly into the light of the dark black night."_

He used to love the Beatles. He would've hated the way Natasha looked at this boy though.

And somehow he ends up in her hotel bedroom and she screwed him hard. Her nails had scratched painful red lines down his still young body and her teeth left heavy marks into the flesh of his neck. She's about to screw him harder.

_Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly__  
__into the light of the dark black night._

He seems to have caught his breath while she remembers the moments leading up to this. He, this forgotten boy, reaches out and touches the notch of her spine. She spins around, and when she sees his irises that seem to radiate with the peril and beauty of El Nino, Natasha loses herself. "Clint" she whispers, and as the words escape her lips she realizes she is wrong. His eyebrows begin to furrow in confusion.

The Black Widow reaches under her pillow and does what Clint Barton should've done ten years ago when she barely seventeen. She shoots and watches him bleed out on her bed. She goes to wash her hands.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
all your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to arise._


	3. Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews so far guys! This is the penultimate chapter and I decieded to try and give it a lighter note. The italics are Natasha's flashback because I figured that we really weren't getting that much Clint in this story and I like the idea of him seducing Natasha with a mating song. Also love is for children translates to love is for fun and for idiots. One more chapter after this! Please review! **

_ They're in Tokyo, Japan. It's a simple mission. The Japanese American son of a technology business tycoon is visiting his mother's family. Of course, said son happens to happen a bit of a loud mouth. As the business is dirty and could potentially spiral into international conflict, Agent Romanoff is assigned to check in with him on each of his visits. The first time she'd met him, she'd played the part of a waitress at a touristy karaoke bar. He'd been instantly besotted and would visit her there as often as possible. She convinced him that she worked crazy hours, could only go on dates with him if they were at the bar so she could quickly return to work. He admired her work ethic. He also admired her breasts. _

_ This was the fourth time she'd been scheduled to meet him, Hiro- his name was, for the record- and upon his arrival, Natasha told her 'boss' she was taking her break now. She pretends to look at herself in a reflective plate, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ears and undoing the half-apron she'd been wearing. _

_ "Hiro!" she swooped into the booth, planting a kiss on his forehead, "Konnichiwa!" Her eyes sparkled, hiding the fact that the glimmer had been preplanned and rehearsed. "Amy" he wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly for longer than she would've preferred. She hoped that she wouldn't have to continue this mission for more than a few meetings or she worried that Hiro might propose to Amy. It wasn't that he was a bad kid, but he was just that, a kid. _

_ They'd settled in and ordered something to eat, Hiro's arm tucked around her shoulders as he hurriedly spoke about what had occurred since the time that he last saw her. To an outsider, she looked like a love sick young woman, not caring what her lover said as long as he was speaking, but on the inside, Natasha was like a predator. Her mind carefully filed away each and every scrap of information, analyzing it to try and find anything that could allude to trouble in his father's business. _

_ The hunt was interrupted when a loud American man took the stage at the front of the bar, swaggering drunkenly with a confident grin on his face. His boots clunked over the wood and Natasha attempted to ignore it, but then the mic clicked on and the lights dimmed a little. And oh crap- he was singing. _

_ Clint Barton's looking straight at her, and he's wearing a smirk she just wants to slap him for. He's staring at her unabashed now and she swears he knows that she's wearing a pair of socks that she stole out of his drawer the other day. Natasha almost forgets he's onstage until he starts belting out a rock song. _

_ "Well you're the real tough cookie with a long history of breaking little hearts like the one in me" he's strolling towards her now, removing the mic from the stand. His steps don't seem so drunk now. "That's ok, let's see how you do it, put up your dukes let's get down too it". He's fake boxing at her now and she's biting the inside of her check as she tries not to laugh. Of course she'll kill him later but this is assassin Clint Barton on stage, bad ass with a bow, Mister Silent and Brooding. And he's singing a Pat Benetar song of all things. _

_ And then he's grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the booth, "Hit me with your best shot!" She pulls back, knowing Hiro's staring at her with confused puppy dog eyes, but he tugs her forwards again. "Why don't you hit me with your best shot?" _

_ Her eyes glance up and she can partially see his through the sunglasses he's wearing in the darkness of the bar (asshole). His lip curves into a half smile before he challenges her "Hit me with your best shot!" Natasha shoves him quickly, and as he tumbles backwards, he mimes shooting a gun at himself "Fire away!" _

_ Clint lands on the floor but flips right onto his feet, sidling after her. She's sitting back into her booth and he's fallen to his knees in front of her, hands clasped. "You come on with a come on, you don't fight fair." Her palm is outstretched to shove him again, but he rolls to the side, "But that's ok, see if I care!" _

_ Now he lies out on his back, splayed like an eagle, "knock me down, it's all in vain, I'll get right back on my feet again!" And then he's up again, and grabbing her hand now and she's letting him. _

_ He dances with her, not in the formal and manicured way that SHIELD has instructed them, but playfully, like two little kids mimicking adults at a wedding. She finds herself laughing now, and the crowd seems fully caught on in Barton's little show, singing the chorus for him while he dances with her. _

_ Clint doesn't need to look at the lyrics running across the screen to know when he needs to sing again. "Well you're a real tough cookie with a long history of breaking little hearts like the one in me", his forehead brushes hers teasingly, their noses touching ever so faintly and she can smell toothpaste on his breath. "Before I put another notch in my lipstick case, you better make sure to put me in my place!" As he bellows out the words, he turns from her and skids across the floor on his knees, mic posed over his head. She has the opportunity now to recall that she's on a mission, and that she couldn't smell any whiskey or liquor on him. He's still singing, not looking at her, and she storms out of the place, not even looking at Hiro. She'll call him the next day and apologize, claiming that Clint was her obnoxious ex-boyfriend and that being around him just made her angry. _

_ But for now she storms out into the streets, waiting for a cab to come and then heading back to her hotel. She gets up to her room and thinks that she has about ten minutes before Clint crawls in through the balcony. Natasha goes to lock the doors leading to the balcony, knowing it won't stop him but hoping he'll get how pissed she is. Of course, Clint's already standing in her bedroom, leaning back against the glass. _

_ "You idiot" she growls at him. "What the hell are you even doing here? This is my assignment, Barton, and you're going around with your stupid little stunts that could ruin everything! You weren't even drunk!" Natasha is writhing at him with anger. Normally she's so collected and calm. The rage that the rest of SHIELD fears is her cold fury. They've never even known she could be passionate like this. _

_ "I finished up in Iceland early" he shrugs at her, as if that answers all the questions. _

_ "So why the hell are you in Japan?" she demands from him, bristling. _

_ He's silent for a moment, thinking something over. "I wanted to see you, Nat". He ducks just before the dagger that she keeps on the inside of her thigh stabs the door, directly where his head had been a moment before. She turns from him, about to storm away again though she really didn't know where else she could storm too. Japan was an island. Could she storm to an airport and then storm to China? _

_ "And I pulled that stupid little stunt, because I wanted you to see me too" Clint's husky voice answers her, and she feels his hands encircling her waist, the calluses of his thumbs brushing underneath her top. She ignores the Goosebumps rising on her arms, refusing to give her partner the satisfaction. _

_ Natasha's still tugging away without quite the same determination though. "You're an idiot, Clint" she mutters darkly. _

_ "And you are too, Nat". She can feel his smile on the back of her neck and this banter, its comfortable for her. _

_ "And why is that?" she asks him sharply. _

_ He turns her around so that she's facing him. "Because you liked seeing me". _

_ If Natasha blushed, then she would've, but she's the Black Widow so she doesn't. "Don't even kid yourself" she coolly replies. _

_ "Its not so bad to be a kid" he answered, "I mean, I didn't have much a childhood but I do remember what it was like to be a kid. Sometimes having fun and acting like an idiot…I mean those are the moments you remember at the end of your life. The ones that make you a child again". _

_ Sometimes Natasha feels like a child when Clint smirks at her or pulls her hair during a debriefing. But Natasha can't be a child, she can't afford fun or stupidity –this is what she tells herself, conveniently forgetting how sometimes just the sight of Clint can make her laugh-. "Get out of my room" she tells him, "Go back to Iceland, Barton". _

_ He shakes his head and she pulls back her fist about to let go when a huge grin splits across his face. "Why don't you hit me with your best shot?" _

_ The 'shot' she gives him is so definitely her best that the thud he makes when he hits the ground is heard throughout the hotel. _

Natasha wakes in SHIELD's medical wing, head throbbing and she finds that she can barely move. Everything aches but not as much as that damned organ within her chest does.

There's a nurse standing over her who tries to explain what happened. There's the beep of her heart next to her, and she can imagine the angled green lines blinking away. She is distracted and the only words she catches are "Budapest", "Sniper", and "Alone".

She lets her head tilt against the scratchy pillow, ignoring the nurse and staring at the bland nothingness of the wall next to her. Natasha remembers the moments that make her a child again.


	4. Heart

**Author's Note: Final chapter guys, thanks for reading, hope you all enjoyed it and this ending satisfies everyone! Songs are at the bottom **

Natasha doesn't believe in god. Neither does Clint. He used to joke after debriefings on missions that had nearly killed them that 'He doesn't believe in any god but he sure as hell believes in Fury". Natasha's lips had quirked up and she hadn't stop his fingers from brushing against her's with each step they took.

Natasha remembers Budapest. She remembers how Budapest wasn't actually a thing. It was a code word for Siberia where they laid themselves raw on a hotel roof, and she'd described their relationship as a fire fight neither of them would escape from. Natasha admits her weakness that day but fights despite the wound it leaves. She fights because she's a grown up woman who has to fight her inner demons and then the ones that plague the outer world. But she can do it with Clint by her side, or at her back, or twelve stories above her, always watching. They call it Budapest because that's where the mission was supposed to be and Coulson had mixed up their assignment report and his daughter's quiz on European countries and their capitals. And then Clint made some joke about how Budapest was the mission where they became buds and also- it sounds like 'booty pest' (in his opinion, their rears are both their finest assests). Natasha sighs but lets it stick because Siberia is a secret between them and she wants it to remain that way.

Natasha hadn't liked the idea of a circus but when Clint takes her, its more than just childish entertainment. He explains to her exactly how everything works, and the words flow from him so naturally that most SHIELD operatives wouldn't recognize him at that moment. Clint tells her about his childhood that night, about his parents and Barney and the first time he held a bow. They make a game of aiming popcorn at the people in front of them, (bonus points for hitting gingers is Clint's declaration).

Natasha pretends that she can't hear Fury and Hill talking to the nurses when she experiences a few moments of sanity. She fakes asleep, and regulates her heart beat to match. But she hears them talk about how unstable she's been since _his _death. About how reckless she is now. About that dead body in Iowa they really have no rational way to explain. She wishes she could shut her ears when one nurse says that everyone knows the Black Widow could survive anyone's death, but without Barton, she loses the will to live. Natasha gains the will to think about ripping the woman's tongue out but she is still trapped in bed.

Natasha remembers the real Budapest that put her in this stupid bed with only the wall as her companion. She was doing a mission for Fury, should've been simple, in and out. It's a rookie mission, and Natasha doesn't want to acknowledge that she isn't trusted with the big jobs anymore. But she's in the process of completing it and doesn't think to watch her back. Barton always has it from his perch in the shadows. She shoots the two remaining henchmen. She doesn't see the third as his gun releases a bullet. Natasha certainly feels it when it drives into her spine.

Natasha remembers the apartment they shared, and she remembers Clint singing and the smell of black as night coffee at the crack of dawn. She remembers nights in the cold, cutting off her red locks over the sink. She remembers stitching Clint back together after missions and reading Russian novels while he tries to distract her. She remembers brutal fights and a lamp hitting her in the face once; of course this is after she had stabbed him with a fire poker. Natasha remembers how they apologize to one another with barbed remarks and it seems like the fight might reignite but then he gets a wash cloth and begins to clean her face while she rubs into the deep gash on his arm. She remembers how he pulls her hair when the Olympics are on TV and how he growls so possessively whenever sleazy men touch her. She remembers hiding in his sleeping bag and playing hide-and-seek in the trees during the nights after traumatic missions. She remembers Christmas morning with Clint and there's nothing under the bonsai tree he had set up with a smirk. They hold hands as they shove it into the fire place, choking on laughter and smoke.

Natasha leaves SHIELD at four in the morning. Despite her obvious fatigue, she is still the Black Widow and she manages to leave without being seen. She knows she probably showed up on some security cams but once she is out, there is no way to stop her. She walks in the shadows and thinks of that blaze of glory that the two of them were destined to go out in. Her feet are bare on the pavement and the tough skin traces the cracks. She arrives at their apartment and lets the elevator slowly lift her. They had a retinal scanner for the door, put in by Stark industries. She offers her irises and enters. The place is bare but Natasha can still see signs of Clint everywhere. They had stayed in the SHIELD dorms after missions but when they had down time, this was their nest, she supposed.

Their scents were still in the air, albeit stale. Or maybe Natasha was just hallucinating. She didn't want to acknowledge the later concept. She rifles through the kitchen drawer, finding everyday house hold objects, except that almost all of them were capable of being transformed into weaponry. She finds matches, and then a chair. Natasha stands under one of the smoke detectors, strikes the match, and waits for the comforting alarm. Water falls from the ceilings preemptively and after four minutes she steps down from the chair.

She makes a basic incendiary device, one that even the most obtuse of criminals could create and lets it begin to burn as she closes herself into the bathroom. Natasha slides down against the tub, and curls up as if she is getting ready for bed.

She remembers lying in this bathtub with Clint, bubbles about both of them, splashing one another and Natasha had created a very convincing beard on him. The water had slowly drained out until they were both just lying on the cold surface, suddenly eye to eye. They were bare, but not for a lack of clothes. They were bare for the lack of secrets in their eyes.

She thinks of fire and water and how most would prefer a quick death by smoke inhalation to the slow torment of water. But in this moment, she would prefer to go by water. Her and Clint talked about the blaze of glory, but a flame, even an ember, was so painful, so rough and reckless and them. Sometimes she wished they could just be ebbed away by the tide, removed in a tranquil manner from the earth with no trace of their existence. But they were Natasha and Clint. They were fire and kerosene. Burns leave marks. So do Natasha and Clint. Or just Natasha now.

The group grows hotter now and smoke has gotten under the door. She didn't intend to go out this way. Somehow, in her drug addled mind, she thought that she could just burn any remnants of their past. She could burn Clint Barton out of her life and move on, but she had felt the need to stay there, to see it go down. She thought the shower would give her safety.

She's choking now; she has been for a while. She's crawling out of the tub and she can't see and thing and everything's so dark except for the flame. She makes it to the bathroom door and hisses as she touches the knob. Eventually she just uses what little life force she has left to throw herself against the door. It breaks, and she is free. But flame encompasses the room.

Their bed, their carpet, their books are burning.

Natasha's realistic; she's too weak to make it out now. She thinks 'blaze with no glory'.

Clint would've laughed.

Natasha doesn't believe in any god. But she believes in pain and suffering and hard work and loyalty and trust and truth and some days she believes in being stupid and having fun. Natasha lets the firefight that she never would escape consume her. She doesn't want to escape. She's going to home now, and home is Clint and when she gets there he will say 'welcome to hell, Nat'. And she will laugh and tell him she loves him but he's always known the same way that she has. And they will walk on molten lava, and lie in the savannah to wait for wild fires, and take turns passing their fingers through candles because that's who they are.

Natasha swears she can hear Clint singing now with the steady drum of water pounding about him. "Never wanted to feel. Never wanted you to steal my heart. Never wanted you to know. Never wanted to show I'm weak"

_I don't wanna fight this world alone. _

**Songs: **

**Polly - Nirvana**

**Who Let You Go- The Killers**

**Violence- Blink 182**

**You Oughta Know- Alanis Morrisette **

**For the Nights I Can't Remember- Hedley**

**Always- Panic! At the Disco**

**Black Bird- The Beatles**

**Hit Me With Your Best Shot- Pat Benetar **

**Heart- Pretty Reckless **


End file.
